Pie

My food processor's been on the blink for over a year. It used to make my pastry for me. Lately, I've had to do it myself. I've rubbed butter into flour with my very own fingers. Dripped in the water, just enough to make the dough come together. I've kneaded it, but not too much.

Rest it in the fridge. Roll it out. Drape it across the tin then gently push it in. 

It's become one of my very favourite things to do.

When I get the food processor fixed, if I do, I'll let it make pesto. Almond meal. Fish cakes. 

But I might keep the pasty making just for me.

{We made a pie with those apples. And then another.}

Pick Your Own

This is the sort of thing I had in mind when we moved to the country. The overflowing backyard veggie patch has always been in the picture (yet to be realised) but I wanted to be near places we could visit to pick our own food. There's something about an orchard that gets me all nostalgic. I spent a few years in my childhood living in a house in the middle of an apple orchard, and while the glasses have definitely taken on a rosy hue, I'm sure I'm not exaggerating when I say we spent our weekends running up and down the rows eating fruit straight from the tree. 

Even though apples aren't uncommon in this area, and plenty of people seem to have a tree or two in their backyard, I hadn't been able to locate a proper pick-your-own farm.

Then a friend told me last week about a place not far from here that was once run as an organic farm, and is now a meditation retreat. It's set on a beautiful patch of land alongside an enormous, neglected orchard with rows of apple trees of all different varieties. The fruit is falling from the trees and rotting on the ground - the birds are having a field day. 

So armed with our inside knowledge, my littlest pair and some dear friends put on our gumboots, grabbed some baskets and set out. We were warned about wombat holes and rabbit warrens, then invited to help ourselves. The kids ran wild while my friend and I sampled the wares, grabbing a handful of the sweetest, a selection of the crispest, as we came across them. Every tree held a different fruit, none of them labelled. The prettiest often seemed the most lacking in flavour. Ironically, after traipsing the length of several rows, I decided that my favourite had been the first one we'd tasted. Luckily we were able to find that tree again, and the basket was topped up.

Now I have to turn my attention to what to do with all that fruit. Apple pie, anyone?

Wild Plum Jam

After our little foraging trip, we had a kilo of wild plums, tiny and more sour than sweet. I roasted them to soften them then pushed the pips out, one by one. I transferred the soupy flesh to a saucepan, added sugar, then watched it bubble and simmer until it was sticky and jammy. Then I poured it into scalding hot jars, left them to cool, then tied it all up with string.

The end result - tart, not too sweet, perfect on a scone. Hopefully not poisonous. 

{Washi tape purchased from my old friend, the Craft Queen.}

Christmas Pickings

A change in our living circumstances this year has meant we don't have a garden, at least not much of one to speak of. We have land, a huge expanse of vacant lawn, but lack of inspiration and the short-term rental thing means we haven't done anything out there. But we live at the end of a little dirt lane, one that I meander down regularly. And a recent wander revealed a bounty of produce. So one evening last week, my babes and I went a-foraging to see what we could see.

When we returned, we had a big bucket of wild plums, a posy of pretty weeds, apple branches that we twisted together with some mysterious berried shrub to form our Christmas wreath (and the tiny apples looked quite festive, too, in a glass bowl) and a bunch of spiky holly. It brightened up our 'for now but not forever' home beautifully. All in all, a festive foraging success.

Oh, and Merry Christmas! I hope yesterday was fun and messy and noisy and a just little bit excessive - it certainly was for us.

{I'll be back in a couple of days to show you what we did with those wild plums}

30. Winter is...

29.Winter is...

22. Winter is...

..coats for everyone!

15. Winter is...

..train whistle blowin' all afternoon and straight into our bedtime lullabies.

13. Winter is...

6. Winter is...

..the celebration of a good drying day, however it comes.

1. Winter is...

..not quite snow, but good enough when you're three.

It's Been A While

I haven't intended to be away for so long. Life is busy, as always. It's regular and normal and day-to-day. But it's different too. There's a lot of adjusting going on. I'm loving my new house, loving making it a home. I'm stubbornly pursuing the good things, lightness and laughter. I'm trying for shiny and bright rather than the obvious alternative.

I've been hovering around, checking in with other blogs and keeping up with the portrait project, but I've lacked the motivation for much else here in this space. And one thing that's become abundantly clear after a month of not much is just how much I miss it - the outlet, the interaction, the inspiration.

And yet, the words aren't flowing. Not yet.

So I've decided to give myself a little project for the month of August - to keep my hand in, to give me a focus, but that doesn't require too much effort. It will force me out with my camera and keep my eyes open and searching. 

There's a bunch of fresh flowers in my kitchen, and their scent combined with the unexpected warmth of the past few days reminds me that spring isn't far away. In the meantime, I'm going to try to celebrate what's left of winter with a month of photos, each accompanied by a handful of words, or none at all.

It might be just what the doctor ordered.

Autumn + Toadstools

I've lit the fire every night in the past week. The hot water bottles are in action as well. These days are filled with blue skies and glorious sunshine, but it's no longer any competition for the chill. I think we're in for a good cold winter.

We spied mushrooms on the roadside this afternoon and wandered back to take a closer look. Fairy toadstools by the dozen!

Autumn in all its glory, my favourite season by far.

I've joined the Instagram bandwagon, though I'm still trying to figure it all out. I'm @typicallyred if anyone wants to find me (and so I can find you back). Thanks to Caitlin for suggesting we get a little hashtag going for next week's Very Bloggy Morning Tea. How do these things work? #bloggymorningtea?????

Kitchen Days

In my kitchen these past couple of weeks: 

Chickpeas and chorizo, lemons from a friend's tree, a spatchcocked free-range chook marinating in marjoram and olive oil, the most perfect egg I ever did poach (laid the day before by a neighbourhood hen), creamy tagliatelle with smoked salmon and chives, and home-baked bread rolls awaiting sausages and sauce.

What's been cooking at your place?